


Gladio and Prompto: Rescue

by ValueVices



Series: Stars Shining in the Dark [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Altissia (Final Fantasy XV), Don't be a hero Prompto, Gen, Gladio being Gladio, kitten rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 04:50:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18985636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValueVices/pseuds/ValueVices
Summary: Altissia is burning, and Gladio does not have his shit together. Meanwhile, Prompto needs saving, mostly from himself.





	Gladio and Prompto: Rescue

There was chaos in the streets of Altissia. Broken glass littered the streets, vendor carts were overturned with their wares scattered everywhere, and rogue waves lapped over the elegant terraces overlooking the city as Titan’s battle against the Imperial Army continued. It was hard to believe that only a day before, these same streets had been crowded with people, and the biggest thing on their minds had been Lady Lunafreya’s wedding dress.

Now the streets were _still_ crowded, but with MT troopers, and the only thing they were bent on was taking down the Hydrean. Gladio would have almost have been rooting for them at this point. Except for how they were attacking everything in their way, and that included the civilians he had been tasked with evacuating. 

And it included Ignis, who was out there somewhere. And it included  _Noct._

Fucking hell. It was supposed to be his job to be at Noct’s side _specifically_ for situations like these. But they didn’t have a choice but to agree to the Altissian First Secretary’s demands, and she had demanded that Noct’s companions assist the evacuation effort—which they had, but on their way to cause a distraction for Iggy to make his way to the altar they’d run into stragglers, and they were duty bound to assist.

Stupidly, they’d thought Secretary Claustra had been being overly cautious. It would be fine, Gladio had thought. They had already fought Titan once, and Ramuh hadn’t challenged them. And this time, they had the Oracle on hand. Even expecting the Empire to show up didn’t seem like much of a threat—Accordo was technically part of the Empire, so what were they going to do, trash their own city?

But then Leviathan had awoken, and as it turned out, the spirit of the ocean was extremely temperamental.

“Forty-six, forty-seven...” Prompto was standing beside him, frowning as he counted the people lined up to get on the next lifeboat. “That’s only half capacity. We should go back.”

“Huh?” said Gladio. He was only half paying attention, watching through a gap in the buildings as Titan’s fist smashed into an Imperial dropship.

“We have to go back for more people,” repeated Prompto. “There’s not enough.”

“Then what the hell are we still standing here for?” said Gladio irritably.

Prompto was waving at an official. “Hey! We’re going to get more people for the boat! Don’t let it leave yet!”

“Understood!” the official called back.

“Okay, now we can go,” said Prompto, turning to Gladio.

“About time,” he said, and turned to go without another word.

Prompto ran to catch up, nearly tripping over his feet. He was even antsier than usual—it was getting on Gladio’s nerves. “Keep up. I’m not waiting around.”

“S-sorry,” said Prompto. “Yeah.”

They jogged along the streets in silence for a few moments, heading back towards where the city officials were gathering the unfortunate citizens who hadn’t been able to get out in time. Smoke billowed from buildings closer to the altar—near to where Titan was duking it out with the Imperials, and where Noct probably was. Where Gladio _should_ be.  


“They’re...going to be okay, right?” said Prompto suddenly. “It’s Ignis. If anybody’s smart enough to sneak past the Imperials, it’s him. A-and you saw Noct, the way he was zipping around—he’s gotta be fine. He summoned Titan, didn’t he?”

Gladio grunted non-noncommittally.

“I tried calling Ignis again, but the signal’s bad. Too much interference. He’s probably got his hands full, anyway...Noct’s a handful on a good day, huh?”

“Is this funny to you?” snapped Gladio.

Prompto flinched. “Oh. I didn’t...sorry, I was just...um, yeah. Sorry.”

He fell silent again. Good. If they didn’t talk they could get this over with faster. They were almost at the plaza, so—

“No! Let me go back! Let go of me!”

Up ahead, a woman’s voice was screaming. Gladio sped up. Prompto did too. When they rounded the corner, they saw the source of the ruckus: on the edge of the plaza, a woman was struggling with an official, tears streaming down her face.

“Ma’am, calm down,” the official was saying. She looked harried. “We can’t allow you to—“

“My daughter is back there!” the woman cried.

“If your daughter is found, she will be brought here. Evacuation efforts are ongoing throughout the city, so—“

“Hey, what’s going on here?” said Prompto, approaching them. Gladio gritted his teeth. They didn’t have time for this.

“My daughter was left behind!” said the woman. “When we were evacuated—I thought she was with me, but when we took the boat to here, she wasn’t on it!”

“Okay,” said Prompto. “Alright. What’s her name?”

“Claudia,” said the woman tearfully. “She’s only six—she’s got dark hair, like me, and she’s wearing a blue sweater with yellow buttons.”

“Where did you last see her?”

“At the gondola station at the Ministerial Quarter. I—I thought she was with me, she was there, but then she...” she let out a sob. “She wouldn’t stop saying she wanted to go back to the house...”

“Right,” said Prompto. “Where’s your house?”

“It’s...if you go up the stairs from the station, and take a right, it’s the house with the red shutters.”

“Got it,” said Prompto, nodding. “Claudia, blue sweater, head right, red shutters. I’m gonna go get her.”

“You...you will?” said the woman. She’d stopped struggling, and the official had released her.

“Yeah. Don’t you worry, Ma’am. You wait right here.”

“Thank you,” she said, tears still streaming down her face. “Thank you...”

The official nodded gratefully. Prompto said, “Oh yeah, and, they need more people for the next boat at the pier, so if you could send about fifty...”

“We’ll send them,” said the official.

Prompto nodded back, and then turned to head off towards where the woman had said. Gladio waited until they were far enough from her before he grabbed his shoulder, pulling him around to face him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he said.

“Huh?” said Prompto. “I’m going to find that kid.”

“Do you think we have _time_ for that?” said Gladio.

Prompto stared at him. “Yeah, dude. This is what we’re supposed to be doing. Helping evacuate.”

“We’re supposed to be clearing a path for Ignis,” said Gladio. “We don’t have time for search and rescue—it’s the Altissian officials’ job, so let them do it.”

Prompto pulled away. “I already said I was going to help.”

“Fine,” growled Gladio. “Go ahead. I’m staying here.”

Prompto frowned, but didn’t say anything back. Somehow that annoyed Gladio even more. “Are you going, or not? Get the hell out of here.”

Prompto went. Gladio watched him, feeling his anger shift and coil inside him, like a snake. He just wanted to wreck some Niffs. But he was stuck here. He had to do the job he was given—like he always did. He never had the luxury of _choosing_.

He turned back to the plaza. The official Prompto had spoken to was addressing the people scattered around, asking them to gather their things so they could move onto the next point.

And Gladio would escort them. That’s what he was ordered to do. And he was going to do it, so he could move on to doing his _real actual job_ of protecting his king.

By the time he’d brought the refugees to the pier and come back, Prompto was still nowhere to be seen. The woman waiting for her daughter was still there.

“Hey,” Gladio said to her. “No word?”

“Not yet,” she said, clutching a small doll anxiously in her hands. “I’ve been waiting, but...”

Gladio glanced in the direction Prompto had gone. It looked like the fighting had gotten closer already; smoke was rising from some of the buildings, and he could hear bulletfire in the distance.

Shit. _Shit._

What the hell was the government doing, if there were still citizens in that mess? Weren’t they supposed to have been ready for this? Why wasn’t anybody doing their _goddamned jobs_ the way they were fucking _supposed_ to?

And the more rational part of his brain, the part that sounded suspiciously like Iggy, said, _nobody was prepared._

It hit him like a bucket of ice water. Nobody had expected it, for the destruction to be this bad. They’d had a plan, but the plan wasn’t enough. People were dying. Iggy might be dead. Noct might be dead. Prompto might be dead.

And Gladio was here, splitting hairs about their assigned duties. What the hell was _he_ doing?

“I’m going after him,” he said.

He ran through the streets. Shit, this place was like a maze. The Ministerial Quarter...he saw a blackened sign with a name he recognized pointing to the left, and followed it. The bridge over one of the gondola canals was broken, so he cleared it in a leap, and nearly bolted straight into a plaza filled with MT troopers before he stopped himself.

As much as he wanted to fight them, it would take too long. He had to find Prompto before they did. And the kid.

He went around. Finally, the street came into view. There was the gondola station...but no sign of Prompto. No, wait—there was something...a broken MT trooper, slumped against a bench. Gladio approached it. Yeah, those were bullet holes, all right. So Prompto _had_ been by here. But where was he now?

“Prompto!” he called, not too loudly, in case there were more troopers around. No answer. Of course not. He didn’t think it would work, but he tried calling Prompto’s phone.

He was right. No signal.

Shit.

He reminded himself not to panic. Stop. Calm down. Review the information he had available. God, he wished Iggy were here. But then he did remember something. The woman, she said something about her house. It was...up the stairs? And it had red somethings.

He started jogging up the stairs; found another busted MT on the landing. Then, at the top, three more. The eyes were still glowing in one of them so Gladio conjured his sword and smashed its head in, feeling the slight prickle of relief that if Noct’s magic was still working, then he must be alive.

At the top of the stairs, he paused. Where was he supposed to go from here? He looked left, then right, and saw it— _shutters,_ it was a house with red _shutters,_ and there it was, and—

It was on fire.

“Son of a _bitch,”_ said Gladio, already running.

From the outside, it looked bad. Half the roof was smashed in, flames licking out the top; the first floor was maybe traversable, the door wide open and the immediate inside not looking obviously aflame. Was Prompto really in there? If he were wrong—

“M-Mister?” a small voice sounded from nearby. Gladio turned sharply; a pair of wide brown eyes were peering at him from around the corner of the house. A little girl.

“You Claudia?” He stepped towards her; she shrank back. More gently, he said, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m gonna help.”

The eyes became visible again, and then more: dark curls, a round, childish face, eyes red from crying. “Are you human?”

“Yeah,” he said, trying to look as disarming as possible. It wasn’t easy. “I’m one of the good guys. Name’s Gladio.”

She stepped fully out of cover then, and thank the Astrals, at least she looked unharmed. “There was another man here before you...”

It was all he could do to keep from grabbing her shoulder and probably scaring the shit out of her. “What’s his name? Is he still here?”

She looked scared anyway. He needed to calm the hell down. “He...he said his name was, um, Prompto, and...he went back inside. To get Moggi.”

“Who’s Moggi?” he practically growled.

Tears pooled up in her eyes. “My kitty,” she said, barely more than a whisper. “They were gonna make me leave her.”

And wasn’t that exactly like him, to go into a burning building to rescue a fucking cat.

“How long ago?” said Gladio, eyeing the door, hoping that Prompto would stumble out of it, any second now.

“I don’t know. Really long,” she said. “Is...is he gonna be okay?”

He looked back at her. She was so small. Like Iris, at that age, eyes the size of the moon and wet with tears, and he was always the one who had to soothe them. He crouched down to her level, looked her in the eye. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m gonna make sure of it. You’re doing great. Keep hiding here, and we won’t be long.”

She nodded at him, gratefully.

And he went.

The inside of the house was as hot as the Infernion’s grave. Right away he could see the cause of the roof caving in: an enormous slab of rock was decorating the remains of the living room, most likely a housewarming gift from Titan. The flames hadn’t yet reached the downstairs, but they looked to be spreading fast. “Prompto?”

No answer. Gladio didn’t see him down here, and if he were, he’d probably have been out of here by now. So obviously he had to be upstairs. In the raging inferno.

Of course.

Was he the only person in their goddamn retinue who knew what self-preservation was?

He was already sweating buckets by the time he was halfway up the stairs, and the air was so hot it hurt to breathe. The upstairs proper was like the inside of a point-blank firaga spell—except worse, because the flames weren’t magical, and that meant smoke. Even crouched down low it was choking, and it was hard to see in the narrow confines of the upstairs hall. There were two doors to the right, which was also where the roof was caved in, and the flames were highest. To the left there was only one door, and it was open. “Prompto!” he called.

Still no response.

He was going to have to take his chances. Door on the left. Even Prompto wasn’t stupid enough to venture into a collapsed, flaming room. He hoped.

“Prompto, you had better be alive in there!” he said, barely keeping himself from dissolving in a fit of coughing as he advanced. The timbers of the roof creaked ominously above him, and he swore under his breath. Almost there...

The room was filled with smoke. It looked like a kid’s room, all bright colours and a pink-canopied bed. But Gladio had been wrong about one thing. The room was collapsed—the corner of the ceiling near the window had fallen in as the fire spread across the roof. And there was a figure slumped against the wall there, a trickle of blood running down his face.

Prompto.

“Hey!” said Gladio, hurrying over to him. Shit. His eyes were closed. Gladio grabbed him and shook. “Hey, Prompto! Wake up!”

His eyes fluttered open, and he coughed. “...G-Gladio? What’re you...”

“Don’t scare me like that, idiot,” he said, relief coursing through him. “Are you hurt bad? Can you move?”

One of Prompto’s hands felt at his head, and he stared in bewilderment as it came away bloody. “I...” he started, before bursting into a fit of coughing.

“Damn it,” said Gladio, feeling in his pockets. Empty. “Do you have any potions on you?”

“Think...Iggy’s got ‘em...” Prompto said weakly. “Sorry...”

“Save it,” said Gladio. “We’re getting out of here.” He slung Prompto’s arm over his shoulder and stood, stooping to keep below the smoke.

“Wait,” rasped Prompto. “Don’t...” he started coughing again.

“If you’re thinking you’re gonna convince me to look for that cat, you got another think coming,” said Gladio, starting towards the door. Prompto’s feet were dragging, but he didn’t resist.

He shook his head. “Just...careful,” he said, tugging at the collar of his partially unzipped jacket. Gladio looked. A tiny white fuzzball with dark button eyes was staring up at him from inside the jacket, opening its mouth in an inaudible mew.

Gladio narrowly avoided sucking in a mouthful of smoke. “You unbelievable son of a bitch.”

Prompto half laughed, half coughed. “Can’t...make a lady cry,” he said.

 

When they made it outside, Claudia ran over to them immediately. “Mr. Prompto! Mr. Gladio!”

“Hey,” said Gladio, “We’re okay. But we’ve gotta get away from here. It’s dangerous.”

Claudia looked back and forth between him and Prompto, gaze lingering doubtfully on Prompto’s not so okay appearance. “Is...is Moggi...?” she said.

Prompto stirred, unzipping his jacket with his free hand and carefully retrieving the little ball of fluff. “One kitty, coming right up,” he said, voice still rough from the smoke.

Claudia’s eyes went wide with wonder as she darted forward to take the kitten from him. She cradled it to her chest, burying her face in its fur, holding tightly even as the kitten squirmed.

Prompto was smiling. Despite everything. Despite the fact that their friends might be dying, that the city was being destroyed, that even he’d almost died...he was smiling.

So Gladio thought, maybe he could take a second. A little moment, where everything, just right here, was going to be okay.

But just a second. “All right,” he said, after a moment. “C’mon. Your mom’s waiting.”

 

They all made it back in one piece, Claudia’s mother weeping with joy as she embraced her daughter, thanking Gladio and Prompto over and over. They managed to get hold of a potion that Noct had worked his magic on from the supply given to the Altissians, and Prompto was back on his feet.

“This might be it,” said one of the officials. “The Imperials are getting close...hopefully this is everyone.”

“You hear that, big guy? Almost there,” said Prompto.

“Yeah,” said Gladio. He shifted uneasily, watching the remaining civilians gather. “Hey Prompto...”

“Huh?”

“What the hell were you thinking back there?” No, not that. Why was this so difficult?

Prompto laughed nervously. “Yeah, pretty stupid of me, right? If you hadn’t come along...”

“No, that’s not what I—“ he sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look. I was being a jackass. I can cop to that. I should’ve gone with you. But that’s not the point. What the hell do you think Noct would do if you up and died on him like that?”

Prompto was quiet, avoiding Gladio’s eyes. For a split second Gladio was sure he was about to crack some idiot joke, but then he just frowned, and shrugged. “...Dunno.”

“What do you mean—“ Gladio started, but then an official was heading towards them, calling out:

“Hey! Are you ready to go?”

Prompto stepped forward, lifting a hand to wave. “Yeah, we’re good!”

They’d talk later, Gladio thought then. He’d bring it up.

 

But they never did.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, check out the sister series Sunshine on the Open Road (https://archiveofourown.org/series/1370674) for more!


End file.
